Michigan, from Flags of the States and Territories (N11) for Allen & Ginter Cigarettes Brands 1888

Curator: Let's turn our attention to this intriguing print: "Michigan, from Flags of the States and Territories," created in 1888 by Allen & Ginter as a cigarette card. Editor: It’s wonderfully bizarre! I'm immediately struck by the odd juxtaposition of a heroic flag scene looming over…miners pushing tiny carts? Is that what's going on down there? Curator: Exactly! These cards were immensely popular promotional items, designed to depict a state's essence. But they reveal more, when we look through the lens of labor and land. Consider who these images were marketed to—predominantly white, middle-class men—and how this depiction romanticizes the exploitation of both natural resources and working-class bodies in service of capital. Editor: So it's not just a pretty picture, it's like, an active participant in a story. The grand flag above, so patriotic, shields the less glamorous, more extractive reality happening below, this gritty little scene, practically underneath its shadow. You've got these stoic miners, toiling to prop up this shining emblem of Michigan. Curator: Precisely. The "Lake State" moniker further solidifies this connection to resource extraction and industrial ambition, packaged, of course, with leisure. There is tension, between that elegant flag, laden with classical Latin and symbols like the eagle, deer and sun—and those figures laboring at the base, who barely warrant a painterly suggestion of detail. Editor: It does give pause for thought, now, doesn't it? Especially today, with heightened consciousness about what's being extracted from the earth, who’s doing the extracting, and the costs to them. The tiny figures really tell a powerful story that seems strangely appropriate for a little rectangle meant to sell cancer sticks. Curator: And it raises an interesting point, about consumption and national pride. As contemporary viewers, we're forced to question the narratives being woven through objects—then and now. Allen & Ginter's tiny tableau becomes an allegory of industry and aspiration, prompting a deep questioning about value, extraction, and legacy. Editor: What starts as charming trivia suddenly unfolds into an ethical conversation that still echoes today! Now that is the power of art—transforming what we perceive, transforming our gaze to the actual depth below that veneer of patriotism.